


Hallelujah

by kissontheneck



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Cookleta, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-20
Updated: 2009-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissontheneck/pseuds/kissontheneck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is a religious experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallelujah

  
_I've heard there was a secret chord  
That David played and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do you?  
It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth  
The minor fall, the major lift  
The baffled king composing Hallelujah_

The first time he heard you play, he called you King David. You laughed gently at the reference before politely denying any remote resemblance you had to any great Biblical figure ever. He assured you that the way you played could not be taught, it was some sort of secret romance between you and the spirit. Whether he meant yours or the Holy Spirit, you never did find out. Something sparked about him then, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it, though his smile remained etched in your memory.

_Your faith was strong but you needed proof  
You saw her bathing on the roof  
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you  
She tied you to a kitchen chair  
She broke your throne, she cut your hair  
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_

You felt guilty the first time you made love. You could almost feel the gates of Hell opening up to swallow you then, the images of fiery flames licking at your body in much the same way he had just done. Yet at the same time, something in your core clicked over. Something changed in the deepest chamber of your soul, and a new sort of religion poured forth, one you didn't understand but knew you felt stronger than anything you'd ever felt before under the roof of any temple. A new sound escaped your lips and he smiled.

_Maybe I've been here before  
I know this room, I've walked this floor  
I used to live alone before I knew you  
I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
Love is not a victory march  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

It was a whirlwind after that. You moved in, you bought furniture, you went on vacation to Sao Paulo. You entertained guests almost every weekend, all of them ecstatic about you and your relationship and your amazing view of the city from your living room. You'd work together in the music room, sharing suggestions and scribbling on each other's sheet music and laughing. You had drawn out goodbyes when either of you had to leave on tour, and the tears would run from your eyes and his as you kissed one last time before one of you would break from the other to get into a car that would vanish for weeks on end. The whirlwind however, became rote, a pattern never ending, with more pieces in less time and before you knew it, life was beginning to blur before you.

_There was a time you let me know  
What's real and going on below  
But now you never show it to me, do you?  
And remember when I moved in you  
The holy dark was moving too  
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_

You can't remember the last time he called you by your nickname, the one he made up even before you were together. You didn't really notice it at first, but you're pretty sure it coincided with the gradual lack of passion in your love-making -- which really just made it fucking now. You didn't feel his love pouring over you anymore, and your heart ached and eyes watered as you tried to inject him with yours. It was a transfusion that didn't take, resulting in the silent passing away of your relationship. Few words were spoken the night you packed your clothes and slid out the door, leaving your key on the side table.

_Maybe there's a God above  
And all I ever learned from love  
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you  
It's not a cry you can hear at night  
It's not somebody who's seen the light  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

You find yourself lying in an open field. The day was hot, but now the sun has dipped behind the trees and the sky is shading. Your body is splayed out, each limb stretched to its limit. The wind catches your hair and it tickles your forehead. You close your eyes and breathe in deeper than you ever have before, breathing in the grass and the trees and the sky. An audible crack like crunching metal pierces your brain just before a drop of rain hits you square in the temple and streaks down your face.

Hallelujah.


End file.
